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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931853">fate up against your will</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/pseuds/succubusybody'>succubusybody</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben is 35, Bondage, Breathplay, Dark, F/M, Forced Alcohol Consumption, Forced Orgasm, Grad student Rey, Kidnapping, Mob Boss Kylo Ren, POV First Person, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Size Kink, So nothing too crazy I guess, Threats of Violence, rey is 23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:08:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931853</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/pseuds/succubusybody</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren, head of a dangerous criminal empire, decides to teach Detective Luke Skywalker to stay the hell out of his way... by taking Luke's adopted daughter, Rey, from her apartment one night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>513</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Mouth open, it's late</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been burning a hole in my head for ages, so it's finally time to get it started! </p><p>I have a good idea of where this is going, but I am not fully sure how violent it will get. Right now I've tagged some kinks that are definitely going to be in it, but I'll be adding more as the story progresses. If a chapter has any significant violence, I'll be sure to mention it in the author's note so you can make an informed decision on whether or not to read! But there will be no murder or physical torture... just some mind fuckery.</p><p>I'm trying out first person to challenge myself and sort of nervous abt it so pls be gentle with me lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I laugh as I cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder, fumbling the keys in the hallway of my apartment building. Goddamn maintenance was supposed to replace the light nearest my door a week ago, but it’s fine - my key is easy to find now that Rose wrapped glow-in-the-dark tape around the base of it.</p><p>“You okay up there?” Rose. Mother hen extraordinaire. I don’t know where I’d be without her. Even now, on the phone with me while she’s sitting in the cab, she’s looking out for me.</p><p>“Yeah. I’m not that drunk, it’s just dark.” I can practically hear her raised eyebrow and laugh again as I let myself into the apartment. “But I made it in safe. You can head home now.”</p><p>“<i>And</i> you’re locking the door,” she reminds me.</p><p>“And I’m locking the door, yes. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you while you’re in the car?” I flip the deadbolt and toss my keys on the counter before shucking off my jacket. It’s even darker in here than it was in the hallway, but I’ve lived here for three years. I know this place like the back of my hand.</p><p>“No, that’s alright. I’ve texted Poe and Kaydel, so they’re waiting up for me.”</p><p>Housemates. I prefer living alone (something I remember every time I crash at her place and wake up to Poe singing and cooking eggs or Kaydel dropping the jug of laundry detergent), but her situation definitely has its benefits. </p><p>Namely that I don’t have to worry about her. She doesn’t have to worry about me, either - I can take care of myself - but it’s part of her love language, I think.</p><p>“Alright, sounds good.” I head into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, pulling the phone away from my ear as I go. “Text me when you’re there. Love you.”</p><p><i>3:39 AM</i> blinks up at me from my phone screen once we hang up, and I groan. Classes aren’t until tomorrow afternoon, but I still have tons of papers left to grade. I’m too old to be making stupid choices like this, I tell myself as I head down the hall.</p><p>The apartment’s quiet. I don’t live downtown, and a lot of the neighbors around here are older. That’s why I hear it: a breeze.</p><p>Frowning, I slow down as I creep up to the guest bedroom door. I don’t ever spend time in here, and it’s really more of a storage room than anything else.</p><p>Which is why my heart drops when I see the window is open.</p><p>This is a good part of town, so break-ins aren’t common. If a burglar was going to get in, though, this would be the way to do it, since the guest bedroom window is directly off the fire escape. </p><p>I would think a burglar would be noisier than this, though. I didn’t hear any rummaging or hurrying to hide when I got home, and this building isn’t the sort of place a super talented thief would target. As I step into the guest bedroom, flipping the lights on, all I can hear is the pounding of my heart. Maybe they’d already left, I tell myself, swallowing hard.</p><p>“If you’re still in here,” I warn, my voice raised and stronger than I feel, “I’m calling the cops.” I pause, listening carefully, but still don’t hear a thing. “So you better get going.”</p><p>But I don’t hear the sound of someone running for the door, or running to stop me, and that’s probably a good thing. Walking further into the room, I set my drink down on a storage bin and shut the window, locking it for good measure.</p><p>I’m positive that the window was locked before, though. Between my overprotective best friend and my dad, common sense safety practices have practically been drilled into me. It must be broken. Just another thing to call maintenance about in the morning.</p><p>With a sigh, I fish my phone from my back pocket and turn around.</p><p>And find myself colliding with something sturdy.</p><p>My mouth dries up almost instantly, eyes widening as I stumble back. It takes me a moment to register exactly what I’m looking at, but there’s a man standing in my guest bedroom.</p><p>I take a step back, feeling my heart drop down into my stomach. <i>There’s a man in my apartment.</i> He holds one hand out like I’m a wild animal he’s trying to tame, and I take another step back, stumbling on an empty cardboard box that I should have thrown away ages ago.</p><p>“Don’t scream.” His voice is low and quiet and smooth; I can’t tell if he always speaks that way, or if he’s just trying to calm me down. “It’ll be worse for you if you scream.”</p><p>Studying his eyes, I think there’s something vaguely familiar about him. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, and I decide not to stick around to find out. He’s bigger and stronger, but that means I’m smaller and faster. </p><p>I dart left, circling as far away from him as I can manage before bolting back for the door. I just need to get into the hallway, I tell myself. To the lobby, maybe. He wouldn’t dare do anything in front of the cameras - no criminal would. Not getting caught is usually the whole point, isn’t it?</p><p>And it’s a good plan, too, adrenaline and the pounding of my heart pushing me forward until my fingers close around the handle of my front door. I yank hard and nearly tug my arm out of its socket.</p><p>
  <i>The deadbolt.</i>
</p><p>The realization comes too little, too late. I feel a large hand cup the back of my head, and then I see stars. The pain blossoms in my forehead a moment later, and all that keeps me standing is the fact that he’s got me crowded up against the door.</p><p>One large hand slaps across my jaw, yanking my head back, and I wince. His lips are hovering just beside my ear, and his breathing is too calm, too even. He’s not worried in the slightest, and the realization makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s like he’s barely broken a sweat.</p><p>“We’re going to try this again.” Despite knowing he was there, I still flinch when I feel his breath on my neck. “Since you don’t seem to care about your own wellbeing, we’ll have to change it up a bit, won’t we? We’re going out the front, and if you make a fuss, I have a bullet for each and every fool that comes out to check on you.”</p><p>The threat makes me shiver. We stand there for what feels like ages.</p><p>“Nod if you understand.”</p><p>I do. </p><p>He reaches past me to turn the deadbolt, keeping me pressed against his chest with a hand over my mouth as he backs the two of us up and guides us into the hall.</p><p>So I’d been wrong. The cameras don’t seem to bother him one bit.</p><p>“If you drag your feet,” he murmurs, stooping down to be heard, “I’ll carry you out over my shoulder. Doesn’t make much difference to me.”</p><p>I glare at his reflection as he herds me into the elevator and presses the button for the ground floor. If he notices, he doesn’t respond. We’re silent as the carriage drops floor… by floor… by floor.</p><p>And stops on the fourth floor.</p><p>His hand drops away from my mouth just seconds before the doors slide open and a pizza delivery driver steps into the elevator with us. He’s not much older than I am, but he minds his business and keeps his eyes on his phone. I glance up to see the man’s reflection behind me, and this time, he does notice; I wince as he pinches the back of my arm.</p><p>A warning.</p><p>The driver either doesn’t hear my whimper or doesn’t give a shit. And that’s probably best for everyone.</p><p>When the doors open to the lobby, completely empty at this hour, he heads out first. I start to follow, but a hand on my wrist yanks me back and I try not to yelp.</p><p>The stranger stands there, still as ever, one hand circling my wrist and the other tapping out a message on his phone, as the elevator doors slide shut. After he hits send, he sighs, cracks his neck, presses the open door button and shoves me out into the lobby before dragging me towards the back door.</p><p>I know that I shouldn’t let him <i>take</i> me anywhere, that here is safer. Here, people can hear me scream and call the cops.</p><p>But people would die, if he’s not lying. I haven’t seen a gun, but I know better than to think that means he doesn’t have one. Older folks live here. <i>Kids</i> live here. </p><p>But I don’t have to worry about what decision to make much longer. The cool night air drags me back to reality as he pushes the door open and guides us through it, straight for a black four-door sedan.</p><p>It’s a nice car. So that definitely rules out petty thief. I hear the jingle of keys and pop of the locks just as we come to the back door on the passenger side.</p><p>And he’s kind enough to open it for me. What a gentleman, I think with a scoff.</p><p>I stand on the sidewalk until he raises an eyebrow and gestures, with a sweep of the arm, for me to get in. He catches sight of my scowl as I settle into the backseat, and I swear I hear him laughing as he closes the door.</p><p>The opportunity for me to run would be as he’s making his way to the driver’s side, and it’s here and gone as soon as I think of it. I could still try, I think as he starts to buckle his seatbelt, but he’d see me start. And I’m not so certain that I could outrun him anymore.</p><p>“You’re making a mistake,” I warn, but my voice doesn’t sound quite so confident as it had earlier when I’d announced I was calling the police. “My dad’s a detective, and he’ll find out about this. He’ll find me.” I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying, and I quickly realize I can’t stop. “Your face is all over the security tapes back there.” I pause, thinking, as the car roars to life and panic starts to set in. “And if you let me go home right now, I won’t press charges. I promise. I’ll… I’ll drop it. We can say it was a prank one of my friends paid you to pull.”</p><p>With how much I’d been talking, the silence I get in return seems deafening. I hear the doors lock again as he pulls away. </p><p>“Your father, hm?” I look up to see him adjusting the rear view mirror and nod. “Luke Skywalker? Yes, Rey. I know he'll come looking for you.”</p><p>My brows furrow. I guess it shouldn’t be shocking - depending on how long he was in my apartment, he could have seen any number of things with my name on it. And I was adopted when I was eight, so it’s not like my dad is a big secret or anything. I’m pretty sure my desktop background is set to a photo of us from last year’s camping trip.</p><p>Still, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. He knows way too much. I turn to look out the window, trying my best to memorize every turn we take, every landmark we pass. I think that it’s probably a bad sign he’s letting me see all this, but I try to shake it off.</p><p>But try as I might, I can’t get rid of the thought that’s lingering in the back of my mind. I blurt it out, immediately feeling my cheeks burn as the question bubbles up against my will: “Are you going to kill me?”</p><p>It’s the sort of question one wants an immediate answer to. I can’t tell if he’s really thinking about it or if he just wants to torment me.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” he says finally, but the relief I’d expected doesn’t come flooding in. Instead, I feel sick. “There are plenty of things I could do to you to get my point across without taking it quite that far.”</p><p>I glance up to find he’s looking at me in the rearview mirror again, and I quickly look out the window so he can’t see the tears welling in my eyes. But apparently I’m too slow for that, because he fucking <i>laughs</i>. I feel my cheeks start to burn even brighter, which makes me want to cry more.</p><p>Asshole.</p><p>But he doesn’t say anything, which I find myself thankful for, and I take the time to try and calm down. Once I’m sure that my voice won’t wobble, I work up the courage to ask my next burning question.</p><p>“Who are you?” It comes out quieter than I expect, which I’m kicking myself for. I try to compensate by raising my chin high when he glances at me.</p><p>This takes him a while to answer, too, which I don’t really understand, but I wait him out as he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “You can call me Kylo Ren,” he says, finally, though he doesn’t look back at me as he does it.</p><p>I’m about to push further - <i>is that not your real name?</i> - when something clicks. I’ve heard of him before, and as I start to remember where, the nice car and the confidence all make sense. Guns, drugs, prostitution… I’ve heard his name attached to all of it and more on the news. He’s the head of a fucking empire, and easily the most notorious criminal in the city.</p><p><i>Oh</i>.</p><p>“If I were you, kitten, I’d try to get some sleep.” I look up to find he’s staring at me again, and I return it with a glare. He seems unbothered, winking at me before returning his eyes to the road. “We’ve still got a ways to go, and you’re going to need it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dead silence, black space</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>there's a little bit of manhandling in this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Wake up, kitten.” The voice comes to me through the haze of sleep, like when my alarm would <i>almost</i> wake me up. “We’re home.”</p>
<p>But then the half of me that’s awake to hear it remembers what happened, and I jolt upright, head swiveling wildly. I must’ve passed out at some point, but for how long? All I know for certain is that the sun has come up, and all I can see for miles and miles and miles are trees.</p>
<p>And a cabin.</p>
<p>I turn to face Kylo, still sitting in the driver’s seat and watching me from the rearview mirror with a mildly entertained look in his eye. We must’ve just arrived. I don’t think he’s the type to just watch me sleep.</p>
<p>Then again, I don’t know him well enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. I shudder.</p>
<p>“Where are we?” I try to make myself sound stern and brave, furrowing my brows and giving him a serious look. “How long was I out?”</p>
<p>He turns to look over his shoulder as he unbuckles his seatbelt and shrugs. “We’re somewhere private.” He even goes so far as to wink at me before he opens the door. “We won’t have to worry about any interruptions. It’ll just be the two of us.”</p>
<p>The door slams with a thud and I watch with wide eyes as he walks calmly to my door. Before he can open it, I push myself to the other side of the vehicle, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them so he can’t reach me. Not unless he crawls onto the seat.</p>
<p>But he doesn’t come after me. He just stands there. I can only see from the chest down as he holds the car door open, seemingly patient, for what feels like ages. Eventually, he sighs and walks around the back of the car to the side I’m on now. I scramble as quickly as I can to the other side of the bench.</p>
<p>I don’t really know why. It’s not like staying in the car forever would help me at all, even if he did leave me here. But it feels better than rolling over for him.</p>
<p>This time, when he opens the other door, he bends down right away, looking at me with those cold eyes that I swear I’ve seen before. “Get out of the car, or I’ll drag you out. And it won’t be pleasant.”</p>
<p>Fat chance. He’s going to hurt me anyway, I’m sure of it. I’m not going into that house willingly.</p>
<p>When he realizes I’m not getting out on either side of the car, he frowns and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as he places a knee on the seat and folds his body into the car with me. I’d forgotten how big he was - or maybe it’s just exaggerated because he’s crunched up - and panic starts to set in, so I do the only thing I can think of.</p>
<p>I grab hold of the headrest in front of me and I kick as hard as I can.</p>
<p>Ideally I’d break a nose, and I feel my foot connect with <i>something</i> followed by a loud string of swearing, but when I pull my foot back, he’s cradling his jaw in one hand and looking like he might have changed his mind about murdering me as he reaches out with the other.</p>
<p>Using my grip on the headrest, I try to pull myself out of the car, thinking I can sprint into the woods and weave through the trees and lose him and then… I’d figure it out when I got that far. But I don’t even have the chance to swing my legs to the ground before I feel a vice-like grip wrap around my ankle so tightly I yelp. He yanks once and I hold tight to the headrest, but on the second, he pulls me free and starts to drag me from the car, just like he’d promised.</p>
<p>I do the only reasonable thing left: I scream.</p>
<p>He said we were far from Boston, and based on the scenery I believe him, but surely there’s another cabin somewhere in the area, or hikers. There’s obviously a road nearby, since we’d driven here. All I need is <i>one</i> person to hear me.</p>
<p>The screaming is cut short when he gives both of my ankles a final tug. I thud heavy to the ground, the impact of my stomach against the pavement knocking the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping for air. After a few desperate wheezes, I find the strength to roll onto my back.</p>
<p>He’s staring down at me, and I wish I could get some hint of what he’s thinking. I draw another breath to fuel a scream, but he holds a finger up.</p>
<p>“No one will hear it. And if I were you, I’d save my voice.” I swallow hard, staring up at him, and he stares right back before shrugging. “But if you need to get it out of your system, I won’t stop you.”</p>
<p>I weigh my options: scream myself hoarse and risk pissing him off, or save my breath for… whatever he’d meant when he said that. Or maybe for screaming when I <i>know</i> someone is around. The choice is easy. I shake my head.</p>
<p>“Good.” Kylo smiles, but with his dark hair and eyes and intimidating features, it doesn’t feel very comforting. He crooks a finger and beckons. “Get up.”</p>
<p>Carefully, I pull myself up to my feet. I’m already sore, partly from sleeping in the car and partly from being dragged out of it, but nothing’s broken, so I guess it could be worse. </p>
<p>The second I turn to face him, he grabs hold of my jaw and squeezes until I cry out as he backs me up against the side of the car. His face is eerily calm, even as I pry at his wrist and beg him to ease up.</p>
<p>“Never hit me again.” The sharp edge of his voice cuts through the pain, making me shiver. I try to look away and he squeezes tighter, making tears spring to my eyes. “I want Luke to find you eventually, but I’m fine with him finding you in pieces.”</p>
<p>I choke on a sob and watch as he rubs his jaw. “Nod if you understand,” he barks.</p>
<p>As best I can with my face held so tight, I nod. He lets go and I immediately turn away, working my jaw and wiping the tears from my eyes. When he says my name, even though his tone isn’t as harsh as it had been just moments before, I still flinch.</p>
<p>“Inside, please.”</p>
<p>I’m not feeling especially argumentative right now, so I head towards the house, aware the entire time that he’s just a couple of steps behind me. My eyes dart to the trees surrounding us, but with him this close, I don’t think I could outrun him. And even if I could somehow manage it, I get the feeling he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me if he felt it was justified.</p>
<p>When we come to a stop at the front door, I see that he doesn’t have a normal lock system - no keys. Just a keypad. </p>
<p>He steps closer behind me and places a hand over my eyes without warning. I frown, the back of my head resting against his chest as he reaches over my shoulder and punches in the code. He smells nice, but I quickly dismiss the intrusive thought as he lets go of me and shoves me through over the threshold so that I go stumbling into the foyer of the cabin… if cabin was even the right word for it.</p>
<p>Luke’s taken me to the mountains a few times over the years, and we’ve rented cabins, but they’ve never looked like <i>this</i>. Never been quite so large, either. I try not to gawk as I scan the place. Expensive, no doubt. The lock whirrs shut behind us.</p>
<p>“You’ll have time to look around,” he says, brushing past me before glancing over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “But not right now. Follow me.”</p>
<p>I don’t really see another option, so I trot after him, making note of every heavy-looking object that I could potentially turn into a weapon as we wind through the house. Kylo leads me to a bedroom.</p>
<p>A guest room, from the looks of things. The furniture, the pillows and sheets on the bed, the curtains on the windows… everything looks untouched, pristine. Couldn’t possibly be his room, because even though I know he’s crazy, I can’t begin to picture him living like <i>this</i>.</p>
<p>Relief floods my senses. I try to tamp it down. Whether I’m a captive in his room or a guest room... doesn’t make a difference either way.</p>
<p>“On the bed, please.”</p>
<p>My throat tightens at his words, and I turn to see that he hasn’t followed me in from where he’d stopped at the hallway; instead, he’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smile on his face. </p>
<p>I glance at the bed, then back at him before clearing my throat. “I would, um… really prefer not to..” </p>
<p>I wouldn’t consider myself the most creative person, but I don’t need to be for the command to send my imagination running wild with reasons he could want me on the bed. Each of the reasons ends in a way that makes my stomach twist like I’ve been punched in the gut.</p>
<p>The smile drops from his face and he tilts his head as he regards me. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I imagine this is how it feels to stare down a shark. “You’re not a guest here, kitten. It wasn’t a request.”</p>
<p>I stare him down as long as I can stand, but I’m the one who caves first. My lower lip starts to tremble; I turn around quickly to hide it and carefully crawl onto the mattress. Once I’m entirely on the bed, I sit, turning to face him, even though I’m cross-legged towards the end of the bed.</p>
<p>He shakes his head and waves me back further; my brain takes this as confirmation of my worst fears. Tears well up in my eyes as I shuffle backwards toward the headboard.</p>
<p>Once I’m there, we just look at one another: me, waiting for his next command, and him… well, I don’t know why he’s looking at me like that. I just know that I don’t like it.</p>
<p>“Lie back and put your hands over your head,” he says after what feels like ages, taking a few lazy steps into the room. It takes more strength than I knew I had left, but I manage to do it. I watch him warily and try to keep my breathing calm and even, like that would hide how afraid I am.</p>
<p>Like the look in my eyes isn’t giving it all away. I’m sure he can tell, judging by the look on his face as he approaches the bedside table.</p>
<p>Smug. Like he’s fucking enjoying it. Probably is.</p>
<p>I turn my head to the side to watch as he opens the nightstand drawer and rummages through it. When he finally straightens up, he dangles something from his index finger that catches the light.</p>
<p>Handcuffs. My eyes widen as I shake my head, dropping my arms and pushing myself up onto my elbows. “Please don’t.” I know he can hear me, but when he doesn’t respond, I keep going. “<i>Please</i>. Lock me in the room. I won’t- I won’t do anything, I promise.”</p>
<p>I’d add that I’m too fucking scared of him to try anything, but I think that the way my voice cracks says it for me.</p>
<p>Kylo raises an eyebrow before clicking his tongue and shaking his head. My heart sinks. “I wish I could trust you, but I’m sure you understand, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but I shake my head no anyway. He just turns to face me fully and gestures to the headboard with his chin. “I need to sleep. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”</p>
<p>The threat is obvious. I swallow hard and lay back, my eyes never leaving him as I raise my arms above my head like I’m told. He doesn’t look at me as he closes one cuff around my wrist, loops the chain around a rail of the iron-wrought headboard and secures the other cuff.</p>
<p>Once he’s finished, though, I watch as he straightens up and brushes his hands off on his thighs, admiring his handiwork. Then his gaze drifts down to meet mine. </p>
<p>“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I flinch as he reaches out and brushes the hair from my face. He just laughs at me. “Easy there, kitten.”</p>
<p>Embarrassed, I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks; I set my jaw and look away pointedly, drilling my gaze into the wall instead. He takes a few steps, and I  wait for him to close the door, but he doesn’t. </p>
<p>“I’m going to get some rest, and then you and I are going to give poor old dad a call. Let him know I’m taking good care of you.” There’s a pause, and I think he might be finished, but he doesn’t close the door. “Behave yourself. I don’t want to have to come back in here before I’m ready.”</p>
<p>The door clicks shut. I count to thirty, crane my neck far enough to bite into one of the stupid decorative pillows propping me up, and scream.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I’ve been patient for too long</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kylo makes some threats in regards to rey’s safety but nothing happens to her</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door swings open as I pull the chain of the cuffs against the headboard with a frustrated huff and I freeze, wide-eyed. I don’t know how long it’s been - a glance at the clock on the nightstand makes me think one, maybe two hours, but I haven’t been keeping track - but I hadn’t heard him coming, and I hadn’t wanted to get caught.</p>
<p>Not that he wouldn’t have noticed. I spent too long trying to squirm out of the cuffs before I switched to focusing on the headboard, and I can feel the skin on my wrists, raw and red and angry, suffering for it. </p>
<p>But no punishment comes. I’m not sure what I expected, aside from something violent and horrible. Instead, though, Kylo leans against the door frame and smiles, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve got myself a squirmy little kitten, now, haven’t I?” I don’t really know how to answer that, or if it’s a question he actually wants answered. He tilts his head and lifts an eyebrow, watching me curiously. “You’re welcome to keep trying, if you’d like.”</p>
<p>It sounds like a trap. It’s not like I’d been getting anywhere with it, anyway. He keeps staring until I shake my head.</p>
<p>He’s quiet as he undoes my cuffs, which is… unnerving. I can only take it to mean he’s planning what to do next, and I don’t want him to do <i>anything</i>. I don’t want any part in this.</p>
<p>I know I don’t have a choice.</p>
<p>“Can I use the bathroom?” I rub my wrists as soon as they’re free before swinging both my feet to the floor. It’s stupid that I have to ask, I think. Being able to use the bathroom freely is like… a basic human right, isn’t it?</p>
<p>“Not yet.” Kylo drops the handcuffs and keys back in the nightstand drawer and pauses, and I think maybe he’s going to change his mind. But then he turns around, wraps a hand around my bicep and yanks me to my feet. “We have something to do first. But it shouldn’t take too long.”</p>
<p>I swallow and nod as he drags me into the hall and through the house. When he stops abruptly in the dining room, I nearly trip; he lets go of my arm, too, which doesn’t help my balance.</p>
<p>There’s a cheap plastic flip-phone on the table. That’s it. It seems safe enough, so I take a step towards the chair on the other side of the table.</p>
<p>“No, Rey.” I frown and look over my shoulder to see him patting his thighs. My nose wrinkles.</p>
<p>But he waits me out. If I didn’t have to pee, I’d like to think I’d dig my heels in. If it helps get this whole thing over with sooner, though… it’s pervy, sure, but mostly harmless.</p>
<p>The smile he gives me when I turn around, all on my own, is unbearable, so I settle for staring at the floor as I shuffle to stand between his knees and turn around.</p>
<p>His arm snakes around my waist the second I perch on his thigh, and I squeak as he pulls me closer so that my back is nearly flush with his chest. I can feel his heartbeat like this: calm. And I’m sure he can feel mine, too, since it’s beating so hard that my ears are pulsing.</p>
<p>“See? Not so bad.” I grumble at his words and try to shift my hips back to where they were, but he gives me a rough squeeze and noses into my hair. The squeezing doesn’t make me feel any better, and the more I squirm, the tighter his grip becomes, like a fucking boa constrictor. It’s not until I make myself still that he eases up, patting me on the side of my thigh. “I don’t bite.”</p>
<p>Kylo leans forward to grab the phone of the table and it’s then that I realize I can feel <i>him</i>. Even through his slacks and my jeans. </p>
<p>If the squeezing wasn’t incentive enough to stop wiggling around in his lap, this definitely is.</p>
<p>I focus on staying as still as possible as he flips the phone open and punches in a number without hesitation. Luke’s phone number - cell, not work. Weird, I think. How many times have they spoken to one another? That Kylo would have his phone number memorized?</p>
<p>Once it starts ringing, he sets it on speaker and places it on the table in front of us. “No talking until I tell you it’s okay,” he warns. </p>
<p>Fuck that. He doesn’t know me, and he doesn’t know Luke. I don’t know a lot about who he is or where we are, but I know enough to at least point him in the right direction to find me. He’s a great detective. He wouldn’t need much. I count the rings, one, two, three, practically holding my breath.</p>
<p>“Ben?” I recognize Luke’s voice instantly, but the name he uses throws me off. Just a first name means he’s familiar. I’ve never heard of a <i>Ben</i> before, and I don’t know why he’d expect an unknown number to be a Ben. “I swear if this is you and you-”</p>
<p>“Luke!” I remember the plan once the confusion of <i>Ben</i> wears off, and I practically shout his name in my desperation. “We’re in a cabin somewhere outside of the city-”</p>
<p>A large hand claps over my mouth and I give a frustrated groan, trying to wiggle my way free again. He doesn’t squeeze my waist this time, instead tightening his grip on my face until I wince.</p>
<p>“Very rude of you to interrupt, kitten.” I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks - his voice is loud enough that I know Luke heard that. “The adults are talking.”</p>
<p>I take a deep breath before nodding, and he loosens his grip. Doesn’t stop muffling me, but I suppose I’ve earned that. </p>
<p>“Ben...” Luke starts with that name again, but Kylo doesn’t respond to it. He’s quiet instead, for what feels like ages, as he taps absentmindedly against my thigh. </p>
<p>“I think it’s time you learned to stay out of my way, Luke.” He leans his head against the side of mine for a moment, humming as he thinks. “She’s doing just fine, as I’m sure you heard from her little outburst. I’d like it to stay that way, but it’s up to you.”</p>
<p>The casual way he talks about hurting me or worse makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I wait for Luke to threaten him, to say that he’ll find me first, to give some heroic speech like we’re in a <i>Taken</i> film, but… he’s silent. The silence offends me until I think that he’s maybe trying to trace the call. How long does that take? I can’t remember.</p>
<p>Longer than we’ve been talking, at the very least. Luke needs to keep him on the phone. I try to think of a way I can help, but with his hand over my mouth, my options are limited.</p>
<p>“Every time you fuck with my plans, I’ll send a piece of her home to you.” I draw a sharp breath and try to twist my head to look up at him, but he holds me still. “You’ve been warned.”</p>
<p>“You’re going to regret this, Ben.” I’ve heard this tone before, though not very often. Only when something really bad happened. “I promise you that.”</p>
<p>I work my jaw, waiting for an answer. Instead, Kylo reaches past me to press the red end call button without so much as a word.</p>
<p>And then… we sit there. The call was a lot for me to process, and I’m not sure I want to ask any questions. Even if I did, I’m not sure I’d get answers that I like, or answers that are true.</p>
<p>I can ask if he’s really going to hurt me. If he says yes, will I be happy? If he says no, will I believe him for a second? Not knowing seems better.</p>
<p>After a few minutes of silence, I clear my throat awkwardly and mumble against his palm. “Um… where’s the bathroom?”</p>
<p>Kylo sighs, hoisting me off his lap before standing and walking off down the hallway with a wave of his hand. I follow, and he leads me to a half bath that I swear is bigger than my master bathroom back home. I thank him as I step inside.</p>
<p>He doesn’t move. </p>
<p>“No need to be shy.” He grins, and I shake my head, eyes wide. There’s no way he’s serious, is there? “I can’t trust you alone,” he says with a shrug, like he was reading my mind.</p>
<p>It’s not the response I was hoping for, but the need is too strong to try maintaining dignity in this situation. Better to have him stand there than to refuse until I can’t control it anymore, right? </p>
<p>“Can you at least turn around?” Kylo sighs and turns to the side. Not quite what I’d been asking for, but it would have to do. I turn on the sink to give myself a shred of privacy and don’t look at him while I shimmy my jeans and underwear down my thighs. A quick peek lets me know that he’s not looking at me, either, but I still don’t like him standing there.</p>
<p>I take care of things quickly. I try my best to forget he’s there, and more or less succeed until I’m almost finished washing my hands.</p>
<p>“So what are we going to do with you?” He’s facing me again, but postured in such a way that he takes up most of the doorway. Before, I’d felt guarded, watched over. Like he was a warden. This is different, somehow. I feel trapped in.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” I try to keep my voice casual as I shut off the tap and dry my hands. </p>
<p>“You were told not to speak until given permission.” He doesn’t <i>sound</i> angry, but if he wasn’t upset about it, he wouldn’t be bringing it up, right? I swallow hard and turn to face him, trying to wipe the grimace off my face. By his expression, I’ve failed miserably, and he’s enjoying it. “And then what did you do?”</p>
<p>It takes a few beats for me to realize that it’s not a rhetorical question. “I tried to tell Luke where I was?”</p>
<p>Kylo nods, but it doesn’t feel relieving in the slightest. He straightens up and takes a step into the bathroom, and I feel overwhelmed with the sudden urge to bolt. “Exactly. So what are we going to do with you?”</p>
<p>If he expects an answer for this question, too, I don’t have one. My mind runs wild as my imagination dreams up every single thing I think he <i>could</i> do to me, and none of them are options I like. None of them seem appropriate, either, though he doesn’t seem like the sort to concern himself with whether or not the punishment fits the crime. He takes another step closer.</p>
<p>“Please don’t cut something off!” I barely recognize the voice as my own, panicked and wobbly as tears suddenly spring to my eyes. He pauses, studies my face, and then laughs.</p>
<p>And keeps laughing. I wipe my eyes with the heels of my palms and duck my head down so that he can’t see the embarrassment on my face.</p>
<p>“That’s not something I look forward to doing, kitten, and would like to avoid, unless your father forces my hand.” He closes the gap between us and plants his hands on my shoulders, giving them a squeeze before stepping behind me and using my shoulders to guide me out of the bathroom. “And it doesn’t sound very fun, now, does it?”</p>
<p>I sniffle and shake my head, though I’m not convinced he <i>wouldn’t</i> enjoy it. But his assurances don’t calm me down, and they still leave a pretty big question hanging in the air.</p>
<p>This is another instance where I might be better off not knowing, but I can’t help myself. Especially since he’s leading me into a home office, if the desk and bookshelves are any indication. “... so what are you going to do to me?”</p>
<p>Kylo guides me to the corner of the room, where there’s a step stool. He even offers a hand to help me to the third and final step, which I take so I don’t fall flat on my face. I watch nervously as he walks to the bookshelf and… takes out two books. He still doesn’t answer. I watch, confused as he walks back to me and takes me by the wrist, pulling my hand up until my arm is bent at a ninety-degree angle, palm facing the ceiling.</p>
<p>“You’re going to hold these,” he says, carefully balancing the books on my hand before heading back to the bookshelf for two more. They’re placed the same way in my other hand. “While I work, until your timer runs out. Let’s say… fifteen minutes? What do you think?”</p>
<p>My nose wrinkles. It sounds too good to be true. “Fifteen minutes?”</p>
<p>“Mhm.” Kylo takes a step back, looking between my two hands with scrutiny. “You don’t sound convinced, though. You think you can do it?”</p>
<p>I glance down. They’re not crazy heavy or anything… if I were at the gym, I could curl this no problem. I look back up at him and shrug. “Seems easy enough.”</p>
<p>“Fifteen minutes it is, then.” He raises his eyebrows and takes a seat at his desk, powering up his computer and watching me with a smile. “And we could even make it interesting, if you wanted.”</p>
<p>I frown. “Interesting how?”</p>
<p>“If you drop a book before your fifteen minutes is up, I get to fuck you.”</p>
<p>My brows furrow as I look down at the books once again. Fifteen minutes isn’t that long. I’m stronger than he thinks. He doesn’t <i>know</i> me, no matter what he tries to convince me. </p>
<p>“I can hold these for fifteen minutes,” I say suspiciously.</p>
<p>“Good.” Kylo flips through the pages of a notebook, barely paying attention to me as he speaks. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter It Happens 👻</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I just can't wait to get under your skin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello!!! sorry!! thanks for waiting!! also I deleted my twitter bc I didn’t want to be there but I still check my tumblr (succubusybody.tumblr.com), so you could send me a message there (anon or otherwise) if u wanted!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s sweat beading on my brow by the time I start feeling the strain in my muscles. I’d tried counting, at first - one to sixty, fifteen times, didn’t seem like such a complicated thing - but after three minutes, all of my attention shifted to staring at the books balanced on my palms.</p><p>I don’t think looking at them actually helps, but it feels like it does. And as the seconds begin to feel like years as they drag by, I need all the help I can get.</p><p>“How much longer?” I spit the words from between grit teeth. When I hear a <i>hm?</i>, I glance up to see Kylo staring at me like he didn’t quite understand the question. “On the timer? How much time is left?”</p><p>“Ah.” He shifts his gaze to the computer screen in front of him, clicking his mouse a few times before frowning. </p><p>And that makes me frown, too. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>“It seems I didn’t start the timer, after all.” My stomach drops as I watch him click around a few more times before returning to his work. “No worries, though. It’s been just under five minutes, so I’ll set it for the remaining ten.” </p><p>“That’s not fair!” And it’s not right, either. I don’t know how much time has actually passed, but I know it’s been longer than five minutes. I’d counted to three, I was pretty sure it’s been longer than two minutes since that happened, and I refuse to believe that my arms would feel this way after only <i>five</i>.</p><p>“I could always restart it for the full fifteen?” He looks back up at me and smiles, all catlike and predatory. It’s enough to make me grimace. Bastard. When he raises an eyebrow, I quickly shake my head, and he goes back to whatever he was doing before I interrupted.</p><p>No point trying to count this time. I bite my lip and frown down at the books, focusing on my breathing, on the sound of his pen scratching against paper, on <i>anything</i> other than the burn in my forearms.</p><p>Once they start to shake, I choke back a whimper. “Just six more minutes,” he murmurs. His tone sounds like it’s meant to be encouraging. I fucking hate it.</p><p>I don’t know how much more time passes before it happens. One moment I’m fine, though my arms have started to shake, and the next, the thud of a book hitting the floor is punctuated with a gasp. Mine, I realize once I notice that my mouth is hanging open. Clearing my throat, I drop the other book and straighten up.</p><p>When I glance up at him, he’s smiling again. I pretend it doesn’t bother me.</p><p>“What a shame.” He stacks some papers, his head tilted to the side as he watches me. I raise my chin in a way that I hope looks defiant. “You only had two minutes left.”</p><p>Salt in the wound. I say nothing. I’m not sure I believe him, anyway.</p><p>What’s to come next clouds my thoughts, and I watch as he continues to straighten up his desk, waiting for him to say something, to stand up. We made a bet, and I’d lost, and he doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who forgets what he’s owed. If he were, he wouldn’t be suited for his job, would he? Wouldn’t be quite so… prolific? Notorious? But he doesn’t make a move to collect his prize, no matter how long I wait.</p><p>Until I step down from the stool. </p><p>Looking up like he’d only just remembered I was there, he scoots his chair back from the desk and pats his lap. It’s an invitation, even though he doesn’t say anything. And I know it’s not <i>really</i> an invitation, because I’m not <i>really</i> in a position to refuse.</p><p>I swallow hard, the sound nearly deafening in the silence of the room, and glance towards the door. When I glance back, his dark eyes are fixed on me, his gaze intense enough to make my skin crawl.</p><p>“Thinking about playing hard to get, kitten?” He raises a brow, the ghost of a smile showing in the upturned corner of his mouth. </p><p>All the doors are locked. I know that. And even if I managed to get outside of the cabin anyway, where would I go? I don’t have the keys to the car, and I remember the miles and miles of trees we drove through to get here.</p><p>But then he clicks his tongue a few times and waves his hand like he’s calling an animal, and I bolt from the room anyway.</p><p>The cabin is big - for a cabin. It’s no mountain mansion, and there aren’t many places for me to go. I tear through the hall and into the living room, and then I’m at a loss. There’s a staircase, and an entire level of the house I haven’t explored, and then there’s the kitchen. Unless I want to head down another hallway that will lead me right back to the office, those are my only two options.</p><p>Behind me, I hear him whistling. No telltale sound of feet pounding against the floor, which means he’s taking his time. </p><p>I think that should make me feel better, but it just makes my heart sink down into my stomach the longer I think about it. He’s not worried. I am. It seems unfair.</p><p>There’s too many sharp things in the kitchen, I decide - and while I don’t know that for sure, it feels like a fair assumption. There’s a brief fantasy about taking a knife, defending myself, but it’s short-lived. He’s bigger and stronger, and probably has way more experience with violence. My YMCA self-defense classes won’t do me much good here.</p><p>So upstairs it is. I don’t run this time, either, thinking maybe it’ll help to be stealthy. No need to tell him exactly where I’m at, right? And the house is new enough that the stairs don’t creak as I tiptoe up them, gripping the banister so tightly my knuckles turn white.</p><p>I’ve just rounded the landing when he walks into the living room. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he looks infuriatingly at ease, breaking into a smile when he sees me. I expect him to chase me, but he doesn’t, maintaining that leisurely pace as he heads in my direction.</p><p>If he wants to give me another head start, I think, I won’t waste it. I scramble up the last few stairs to reach the second story, my mind sharp. I’ll need to think of a good plan, and fast, once I know what I’m working with.</p><p>Right away, I realize why he’s taking his time. It’s a loft. There’s nowhere for me to fucking <i>go</i>. I take a couple of steps into the room and realize how badly I’ve fucked up - even the couch is against the wall. There’s nowhere to hide.</p><p>“You ready to play nice now?” </p><p>The sound of his voice makes me jump, and I turn to see him climbing up the last few steps. His hands aren’t in his pockets anymore, but he looks just as relaxed. And why shouldn’t he be? Unless I plan on flinging myself headlong over the railing and into the living room below, I’m cornered.</p><p>Still, when he takes a step forward, I take a step back. I can’t help it; it’s instinct. My heart is pounding, my thoughts are racing, and everything in my body is screaming <i>get the fuck out of here</i>, logic be damned.</p><p>“No?” He cocks his head to the side, studying me, and I swallow hard before shaking my head. All that earns me is a smile. “That’s alright, kitten. I like that you’re keeping things interesting for me.”</p><p>Kylo lurches forward and I gasp, dancing backwards and barely out of his reach. His nostrils flare as he straightens up and pushes a hand through his hair. “Slippery little thing, aren’t you?” There’s a sharp edge to his laugh, and I skitter backwards again, putting more distance between us. He shifts to the side and walks forward, just a few steps; I glance behind me and quickly realize, too late, that I’m backing myself into the corner of the room.</p><p>Left without another choice, I take a deep breath and charge, doing my best to stay far enough away from him that I could dodge anything he throws my way.</p><p>It doesn’t work.</p><p>I feel a scream rip its way free from the depths of my chest as one of his arms loops around my waist, and that same scream dies on my tongue when he shoves me into the wall with such force that the air is knocked from my lungs. He laughs as I gasp for breath, kicking and scratching at him; one particularly strong kick is all he needs to place a hand under my knee, hoisting it up and hooking it around his waist.</p><p>His other hand captures one wrist as I lash out, then the other, and pins them to the wall above my head. I cry out, frustrated, but he doesn’t say anything, seemingly content to watch me tire myself out squirming against his grip.</p><p>Once I’ve settled, chest heaving as I try to catch my breath, I realize I can feel him, hot and hard, pressed up against the apex of my thighs. My eyes widen, and he shakes his head with a grin.</p><p>“I like difficult women,” he says, leaning in to nibble on my earlobe. “Makes the fuck more rewarding.”</p><p>I feel my brow crease in response to his words, and my determination to fight back is renewed. I start squirming again, trying to pry my leg from where he’s holding it around his waist, and I grunt as he licks the shell of my ear with a chuckle.</p><p>“The more you fight, the more embarrassing it’ll be for you when you come on my cock.” The coolness of his tone paired with the filthiness of his words makes me freeze, heat creeping up my cheeks. My shock only lasts a split second, but that’s all he needs: Kylo releases me, turning me around to face the wall I’d just been backed up against. The only hold he has on me now is the hand he’s placed on the side of my head, keeping me pinned cheek-to-paint.</p><p>“I won’t,” I huff back. No matter how wildly I swing my arms back, I can’t seem to hit him, so I settle for bracing against the wall. If he lightens up on the pressure, I could push my head off the wall. Maybe turn around.</p><p>He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Goosebumps prickle up and down my skin as I feel him run a hand along the curve of my waist through my shirt. “We’ll see.”</p><p>His voice now sounds distracted, like he’s only half paying attention to the words. Like his thoughts are elsewhere. </p><p>I cry out in protest as his hand reaches around my hips, his movements expert as he works through the fly of my pants. Kylo yanks my panties and jeans down all at once, stopping once they’re bunched around my thighs, and I squeeze my eyes shut and steel myself for what I know is coming next.</p><p>My eyes flutter open, and I gasp as one of his fingers slides through my folds, his touch feather-light and wildly different from what I’d expected from him. </p><p>“Don’t,” I warn as he drapes himself across my back with a shuddering breath. He shushes me as he repeats the motion, his fingertip brushing over my clit and making my hips jump. I feel him huff against my shoulder as he zeroes in on my bundle of nerves, circling at different speeds until he finds the one that makes me whimper.</p><p>Before long, my knees are starting to shake. I bite down on my lip until I taste the copper tang of blood, trying to force myself to think of something else - anything else - as a distraction.</p><p>And then his hand pulls away. I swallow hard as I hear the telltale sound of a belt buckle and a zipper and the rustle of fabric. I push against the wall with all my might, trying to slide out from underneath him, and he presses my face harder and harder back into the wall until I wince and go slack.</p><p>“Good girl,” he murmurs. I feel the blunt head of his cock sliding through my lower lips, now slick and sensitive from his ministrations. It bumps against my clit, sending a rush of warmth to my core, and he pulls back to thrust again before catching on my entrance and sliding in.</p><p>Even wet, there’s a stretch that borders on uncomfortable as he sinks into me with a low groan. The corners of my eyes sting as tears well and threaten to spill; holding my breath is the only thing that prevents me from sobbing right then and there. Asshole would probably get off on that, anyway.</p><p>Once he’s slotted inside me, he reaches back around to circle my clit. I arch my back in spite of myself, and I hear him swear.</p><p>Whatever gentleness possessed him when he first touched me is long gone, and he doesn’t give me time to adjust. I cry out when the first thrust forces his length even deeper than before. Almost too deep, I think, reaching down to dig my fingernails into the arm that’s wrapped around my waist. He groans, fucking into me faster; my cheeks burn at the sound, evidence of my arousal filling the room.</p><p>“You know that I can feel you getting closer?” He pinches my clit, drawing another cry from me as I press my thighs together. This makes things worse: the feeling of him bottoming out inside of me with every thrust is now paired with unbearable friction, and each time he circles my clit, I can feel something coiling deep in the pit of my stomach. “And I’ve barely got you opened up yet. You must’ve been pent up, hm?”</p><p>But I won’t let it happen. I shake my head against his hand, wrinkling my nose as I try to fight it off. </p><p>Kylo snorts in response, but says nothing. The force keeping my face pinned to the wall vanishes, but before I can think clearly enough to do anything about it, that same hand wraps around my neck just beneath my chin. He tips my head back and pulls until my spine is arched to the point of discomfort, and my whine is choked out as his fingers tighten around my throat.</p><p>“Come.” His voice is a rough grunt in my ear. I shake my head, scrabbling at his hand as my lungs start to burn and my head starts to swim, but he doesn’t let up. With my back curved like this, he hits <i>just</i> the right spot with each thrust.</p><p>I keen, pushing my hips back against him. He bites into the curve where my neck meets my shoulder hard enough to bruise, and it sends me careening over the edge. </p><p>My knees shake as my orgasm overtakes me, a silent scream wracking my body. He fucks me through it, his breathing heavy, and he isn’t far behind. Kylo groans loudly in my ear and I feel his cock swell just before he comes inside of me, his touch leaving my clit to squeeze my hip instead.</p><p>We stand there for a moment, his spent cock inside me while he pants, before he realizes he’s still squeezing my throat. I cough when he releases me, bracing against the wall as I try to catch my breath.</p><p>“See, kitten?” My legs shake as an aftershock of my orgasm hits me, and he pats my ass as he pulls out. “I told you you’d like it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>just in case anyone doesn't know, this is not a good example of choking... ur partner should never actually SQUEEZE your neck.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Song used for chapter titles is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mAEF7xptPs">Under Your Skin by Aesthetic Perfection</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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